


Goodnights

by aura_is_purple



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: F/M, phone fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7091593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aura_is_purple/pseuds/aura_is_purple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How do I know I love her? Because I can sleep after I talk to her."</p>
<p>Blue and Gansey, on the phone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodnights

Night falls at Monmouth Manufacturing with a slow sweep. The bright oranges and pinks of sunset cascade across the visage of miniature Henrietta, until the shadows lengthen and blues abound.

Gansey attempts to enjoy the quiet evening (Ronan’s headphones notwithstanding) but his brain is a spinning top. Glendower is always in background-- a steady march of progress that needs constant reflection-- but tonight he’s worrying about less royal concerns. Adam’s frequent absences on Cabeswater business seem to occur more than ever lately. How he has time for their Glendower quest at all, Gansey has trouble understanding. Ronan is his usual moody self, which is worrisome even in the best of circumstances.

And Blue. Well, Blue. Jane. Everything about her is stirring and unnerving but also full of mystery and dread. Getting closer to her could only be a mistake given her history with Adam and her curse, which Gansey is beginning to understand may account for a lot of questions still outstanding. 

Like how he dies, and why. This would temper his ability to enjoy having her around if he wasn’t so good at compartmentalizing it all away. Ganseys have been presenting their best face forward for hundreds of years and who is he to vary from a tradition? 

It’s finally pitch black in his room, without even moonbeams to glow through the paned windows. He switches on the bedside lamp and looks for his phone, which was resting at his side already. Waiting.

Gansey briefly wonders how Glendower’s milieu could possibly survive on letters alone to fan fires of admiration when she calls. He barely lets it complete one ring before picking up.

“Jane.”

“Gansey.”

There’s a pause and he can hear her getting comfortable in the phone room. “Should I have another name for you?”

He laughs, because their conversations never begin how he could possibly expect them to, and yet never surprise him. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, we just talked about Watergate in history today…”

“If you insist on a nom de guerre, I suppose Deep Throat is as as good as any.”

“I was thinking you could be Woodward and I could be Bernstein.”

“If you must, I would really prefer to be Bernstein. Blue ‘Jane Woodward’ Sargent has such a pleasant cadence to it.”

It’s her turn to laugh, and Gansey lets her Henrietta wash over him. He relaxes for the first time in hours. 

“I just mean, if I’m going to keep accidentally calling you, we should be more methodical about it. What if someone else picks up your phone?”

“If Chainsaw answers, you’ll know the game is afoot.”

“That would never happen because I only call her in the mornings, Gansey boy.”

“If you go to the Henry Cheng well, I’m sure he can lend you his thesaurus.”

“Ok then, just Gansey.”

The way she says it makes him feel like no one else has ever said it right before. Like she could wake the most Gansey part of him at any time-- the core of him that vibrates to life when he’s on the Glendower trail. The part of him that’s usually unreachable in his resolve to be the Gansey the world requires and not the Gansey he might actually be.

“Are you there, Dick?”

He scoffs and she giggles into her phone handset. He can feel her voice reverberating from the phone speaker and directly into his ear. He shivers. “Please, not that.”

Her voice is warm. “I know, I was just making sure you were with me. You seemed far away for a few seconds.” 

He thinks for a moment, about all of the phone lines and satellite signals connecting their two voices. About the several miles of telephone posts and the cell phone bill his parents insist on paying. How it could be spared if they could just say goodnight in person.

But such thoughts are dangerous beasts to let roam for long.

“I’m always here, Jane. At your service.”

“I know-- I should probably say goodnight now before Orla comes in.”

“Oh that charming Orla, send her my regards.”

“Too soon,” she says but she’s smiling into the receiver. He can hear it, and it soothes him.

“Goodnight, Blue.”

“Goodnight, Gansey.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to fairytiger for her encouragement and her friendly peer-pressuring that resulted in picking up The Raven Boys :)


End file.
